


Call of the Round Table

by Uniasus



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Albion, BAMF Merlin, Gen, Light Angst, Magic Revealed, Modern Era, The Round Table, but a small reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:22:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6500647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uniasus/pseuds/Uniasus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They came, one by one, knocking on Merlin’s door. They came in the order of their death.</p><p>(Modern setting where everyone rises - taking Arthur's reappearance as a cue.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call of the Round Table

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by a fic titled [got to be (something bigger than me) by Cyberqueens](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6389437/chapters/14630305) where Morgana Sees the reincarnation of Gwen needing help and so sends the knights to her and Gwen gets all huffy about Morgana not able to give her the original table too. Also loosely inspired by the ending of Animorphs whose theme circles back into my head once in awhile - their story starts with a fight and so their story should end with a fight.

It was heartening, to see the Round Tabled filled in a way it hadn’t been for over a thousand years. Of course, it wasn’t the original table. Merlin’s magic was strong, but he couldn’t prevent wood from returning to the earth.

Ok. He could. But magic was balance and cycles. It was wrong to prevent that.

They came, one by one, knocking on Merlin’s door. They came in the order of their death.

Lancelot arrived first, peering around Merlin’s shoulder to look into the house. “Where is it?” he asked.

Merlin did his best to hide his hurt. He had cast this spell, he knew what it would do and how it would call. He knew what the magic was connected to. Still, to have Lancelot look past him, to practically ignore him after all they had gone through. Merlin would lie if he said it didn’t cut.

“Go straight down the hallway, take a right at the end, and then you’ll see the door to the garden.”

Lancelot didn’t even say thank you, simply nodded and stepped into the house.

Next came Elyan, who treated Merlin in a similar way.

Then it was Gwaine and Merlin’s heart clenched at that. He knew, from Percival’s story, how Gwaine had died. But he hadn’t realized he’d passed away before Arthur. “Hey, Gwaine.”

“It in the back?”

“Yes, it’s in the back.”

Merlin stepped aside and Gwaine sauntered inside. At his cry of delight, Merlin watched him take a quick detour to the kitchen. He reappeared in the hallway holding Merlin’s bowl of fruit.

Shaking his head, Merlin decided to prop open the door with a rock instead of closing it. Three knights in fifteen minutes. No doubt, the rest of them wouldn’t be far behind.

When Mordred showed up, Merlin was surprised. Merlin’s spell hadn’t named knights specifically, but he had never considered Mordred as proper member of the Round Table. The magic, however, did. Or maybe Arthur had. Merlin might have suspected the Druid’s betrayal for months, but Arthur had carried a soft spot for the young knight.

Not for the first time did Merlin wonder if it had been his actions that pushed Mordred towards his destiny. If, like with Morgana, a less fearful heart might have led to a different future.

He found he couldn’t resent Mordred’s presence, not if the magic had called him here. Maybe this time would be better. Before Kara’s death, he had been a good ally.

In death order, Arthur would be the next to arrive, but Arthur rose according to a different spell. Merlin had helped him out of the Lake of Avalon himself a few hours ago. Walked him through the land to Merlin’s secluded house. Pushed him into the shower. Answered the most basic of questions. And then forced him into a chair at the Table to activate Merlin’s spell. No doubt he was smiling with the three knights who had arrived already.

Merlin knew who was next, but couldn’t bring himself to meet them at the door. Gaius had died of old age, but the man who was walking up the drive now was the Gaius who had sat at that first table in the abandoned keep. Not spry, but still walking upright and commanding.

Gaius not greeting him, not calling him ‘my boy’ or grasping his shoulder…that was a bit much. Merlin watched him approach the house from the dining room window. He bit his lip to keep from running up to his surrogate father’s side when Gaius crossed the threshold.

Then came Leon. In the aftermath of Arthur’s death, he had taken on more and more combat responsibilities. His luck had only held for so long, before he too succumbed to a sword wound. But the battle had been won. Camelot absorbed Essetir and Lot’s heir Camden swore his allegiance to Queen Guinevere.

The next to die had been Gwen. Old age claimed her, but only after she had conquered land after land. Arthur had been the Once and Future King, it was him who had laid down the foundations for magic tolerance and Albion. But it was his queen who constructed the country Merlin had dreamed of. Gwen had returned magic to the land, had forced the other kingdoms to give up thrones for wardenships, had allowed the Druids full reign and was thanked with fertile soil.

Gwen, Gwen had made all of Merlin’s dreams come true. They had built Albion together, Queen and Court Sorcerer, and then Queen and King.

Merlin, never aging, had stepped down when she died.

He pulled Gwen into a hug when she stepped into his home. She returned it, awkward and polite, but quickly untangled herself and headed down the hall. Young and beautiful again, she took small, unhurried steps.

Merlin didn’t need to give directions anymore. The knights’ loud laughter carried through the house.

Percival was last. Like Gwen, he had died of old age. He had outlived his wife and one child, but the rest of his family had been there at the end. Serving as Gwen’s personal guard, and then taking over Leon’s position, he had led many successful campaigns and sired many successful knights.

Like Gwen and Gaius, Percival had regressed in age until he appeared as he did at Camlann. His reunion with Gwaine would be filled with tears, Merlin was sure.

Merlin waited by the door, just in case someone else unexpected came. He was halfway expecting high ranking knights from Gwen’s reign, but no one else walked up his drive. As it should be – Merlin had cast the spell for Arthur.

He closed the door and made his way to the garden.

Ever since he had made this house, Merlin had the table in the backyard. The table was why he had bought the land in the first place. Not that it had started as a table – when Merlin first moved it has simply been a large rock that jutted four feet into the air, one side smooth and interspersed with quartz veins while the other was rough. With his magic, it had taken Merlin no time at all to turn it into a table.

The chairs had taken more time, mainly because he crafted them by hand. As an immortal warlock, he had plenty of time. He bought eight high backed chairs and carved the designs on their arms and backs with a chisel and hammer. Each he had made with a person in mind. And each was sitting in the right chair.

The spell had added a ninth chair for Modred. There were no designs, just plain wood, but that was okay. Merlin hadn’t been prepared after all.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted.

“Yes, sire?”

“You do have wine, don’t you?”

He blinked. Because no he didn’t. Wine had not been the default for ages and Merlin had discovered around century two how easy he could be lost in drink.

“One moment, sire!”

Merlin called forth his magic. Not all of them know he had magic, Elyan and Gwaine had never learned, but here in the kitchen no one was watching. He filled three pitchers with water and dropped in lemon slices. Three different trays were laden with glasses, two of the pitchers joining them. And then he stepped out into the dappled forest light, all three trays levitating behind him while he carried the third pitcher in his hand.

No one noticed his magic.

No one noticed him.

They were called by the Round Table and Arthur. Their attention is on him and those seated around the stone tabletop. If he gets a polite nod of thanks as he passes out filled glasses, that’s more attention that he thought he’d get.

It was like the early days. Not the good days, those came later, but the days where there was change in the air and Merlin could strongly feel the threads of destiny. It was nostalgic, welcoming, serving the Knights of the Round Table, the Queen, the Court Physician, and the King of Camelot.

 _This is how it started,_ he thought, _it’s only right this is how it ends._ Balance and cycles. The ebb and flow of magic.

And if Merlin ached to sit at the table too, as he had for most of Gwen’s reign, he ignored it. It was much better to see everyone again, happy and smiling and alive.

Eventually the call of the Table faded, the spell settled, and the chatter around the table died. They all looked to Arthur. Merlin stood behind his chair, silent, pitcher in his hand.

“Arthur,” Leon spoke. “Why are we here?”

“I – I’m not sure.” Arthur looked around the table, catching everyone’s eyes and finding no answer. Twisting, he turned to look at Merlin. “Merlin, you brought me here. What’s going on?”

It was as if Arthur flipped a switch in everyone’s mind.

“Merlin! I didn’t see you!”

“How have you been?”

“Why are serving us?”

“Come sit down!”

It was Gwen’s eyes that swept back and forth that forced Merlin to speak. He hadn’t been sure how much of their lives they would recall – if it would be all of it or just up to the date when Merlin had cast the spell. But it was obvious by how she looked at him Gwen suddenly remembered her marriage to Merlin.

Merlin knew though that Arthur had been her destined love, just like he had been Merlin’s destined King.

It would not do to confuse those who had outlived Arthur.

“Arthur is the Once and Future King of Albion, prophesied to rise again when Albion need him. Knowing Arthur as I do, and that he’s helpless without backup-“ he smiled at Arthur’s noise of protest “I cast a spell on the Round Table. When Arthur rose, those who used to sit around it would come to help.”

“You cast a spell?” Elyan said, gaze jumping from Merlin to the table to the water pitchers floating around and filling glasses the dark knight only now noticed.

“Ah, yes. You never learned about that. I’m a warlock.”

“Warlock?” Gwaine asked. He didn’t seem very surprised by the revelation of Merlin’s magic, but Merlin had always wondered if the man had suspected.

“It means he was born with magic.” Gaius supplied, sending a smile Merlin’s way.

If felt so good to have Gaius smile at him again. Merlin gave him a blinding grin in return.

“And who is this?” Lancelot nodded towards Mordred, three seats past him.

Mordred paled and stared at his hands. “I’m not sure I should be here, Emrys.”

“Normally, I’d agree,” Merlin said. “But the spell, and through that Arthur, choose who to bring back to the Table.”

“Even after what I did?” Mordred looked at Arthur.

Merlin couldn’t see Arthur’s face from where he was standing, but he saw Gwen reach over and place a hand on the king’s arm.

“I killed the woman you loved. Your attack was justified.”

Merlin couldn’t help it. He flinched. He hadn’t thought of Freya in a long time. His first love had burned hot and fast, but it had been Gwen and Arthur and Gaius he had missed the most during his years of isolation.

Mordred caught the flinch.

 _The same happened to you._ The druid’s voice in his mind was awestruck and sad. Mordred had turned to revenge. Merlin had renewed and strengthened his focus on destiny.

“Merlin, should I get a chair for you?”

Leon’s question stiffened Merlin’s back. He wanted a chair, even if it was a bar stool from the kitchen and he’d have to perch above everyone else. Leon often sat next to Merlin once he had been appointed Court Sorcerer.

 But Merlin hadn’t felt a pull to the Table. He wasn’t meant to sit with them, not even after having been King of Albion.

“Please do,” Gwen commanded just as Merlin said “no”.

“This is _Arthur’s_ Round Table.” Half the table understood the emphasis, that this was Arthur’s show. His time has come again, Merlin’s was in the past. Gwen turned to look at him, sad. Gaius focused on the table.

By the looks the others sent each other, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, Mordred, and Arthur all know there was something that they were missing.

In the early days, Gwaine and Lancelot would offer to do things for Merlin once in a while. But Leon? Who stuck by the laws and protocol? It was a tick, a shift in the air. Merlin had been important, once. But that all paled next to Arthur. It always had, it always would.

“Grab a chair, Merlin,” Arthur said. “You’ve been with me through everything. You might as well.”

The words made him feel lighter. He knew how Arthur really felt about him, knew that the king acknowledged their bond and respected Merlin. But they had always been quiet, private admissions. Hearing that fondness in his voice in this setting...Merlin hadn’t realized how much he had wanted that till now.

“Thanks, Arthur. But I can’t.”

“Of course you can! Look. Lancelot, Elyan, scoot your chairs.”

The knights did as asked, opening a spot for a chair.

“I can’t.”

“And why not?” Arthur huffed. He was glaring at Merlin now, leaning over the chair's arm to look at him.

Merlin looked down at the grass. There was no way to say what he was going to without hurting, but he didn’t want Arthur to see that.

“It’s because I never sat at your Table, Arthur. The spell won’t let me.”

“Merlin.” It was Lancelot who said his name with such heartbreak. Lancelot who had seen from the beginning Merlin’s worth, who had said Merlin deserved the honor of a knight’s station. Maybe he had thought that someday, later during Arthur’s reign, Merlin would be granted a seat.

But Arthur had been king for almost five years and for all his talk about equality, Merlin was the only one whose station didn’t raise during his service to Camelot.

Arthur was shifting in his seat in a way Merlin knew well. He felt guilty and wanted to apologize, but his pride wouldn’t let him. Not in front of the entire Table. That was enough for Merlin. It might have hurt back then, but Merlin had risen high in the years later.

“Merlin sat at my Round Table,” Gwen assured. It seemed to make Lancelot feel better, but Merlin expected Lance to pull him aside later to learn what had happened. There would be a lot of that, he thought.

Gaius coughed into his fist. “We could talk of history all day, I’m sure. But that still doesn’t explain why we’re all back now. Merlin, you mentioned a threat against Albion. What is it?”

All eyes snapped to Merlin.

“I don’t know. I only know that there’s a problem because Freya told me Arthur was returning. But I’m not concerned,” he smiled at Gwen and Leon and Percival, “We faced many challenges and won them all. We ensured Camelot and Albion stood strong.”

“And we will again,” Percival said with a nod.

“For the love of Camelot,” Arthur called out.

“For the love of Camelot,” the Round Table answered.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah...I know this is not the 'life after Arthur' situations you typically see, but I just ran with what my addled brain and Merlin told me to do.


End file.
